


Bring Upon Us The New Age

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Angels and Demons Verse [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, BAMF Sam Winchester, Gangs, M/M, Mildly Hurt Sam Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Frigging Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: The plan was simple.Get Lucifer to hire himTry not to get killed in the process.Like he said.Step one was simple.





	Bring Upon Us The New Age

**Author's Note:**

> This... took a while...   
> But hey! Proof that I didn't forget! A while it may have taken me, but I delivered, didn't I?  
> Enjoy!

  Working under Azazel wasn’t easy. He was as cruel as a slave driver, and though Sam knew Azazel could see his potential, he also knew Azazel was only happy to see him as his errands boy. Which was why when Azazel told him to stay to the streets and not to even look at the limousine that was going to make it’s non-schedule scheduled rounds, much less approach it, the first thing Sam did was stake it out. 

  And when the chauffeur opened the rear door? Sam was right behind Azazel. 

  Azazel had barely a moment to throw Sam a snarl of displeasure before Lucifer stepped out. All traces of anger was smoothly wiped away. It was replaced with a look better suited for the pleasant greeting Azazel was already giving. 

  Clad in a white suit, and only a single red rose looking far too fresh for it to be real, the image of Lucifer would forever be seared in Sam’s mind. He didn’t even bother to spare Sam a glance. Even Azazel was given a cursory, uncaring glance, before Lucifer was looking away. His cool eyes calmly took in the harbor, ignoring Azazel’s outstretched hand to button up his coat.

  “Is everything going well?” Lucifer asked, still not looking at Azazel. Looking off-put, but still eager to please, Azazel nodded. He threw out an arm, as if to lead Lucifer.

  “Of course. If you’ll follow me this way, sir, I’ll show you--” 

  Lucifer was already striding away. Azazel hastened to follow. Behind them, Sam kept a careful distance, but never once let them out of his sight. Dean’s plan rang as clear as day in his mind, and nothing could deter Sam from his mission today.

 

oOo

 

  It didn’t happen until much later that day. Azazel somehow dedicated the entire day to update Lucifer on their work, with not even a single break for snacks or even lunch. But eventually, even the great leader of that section of the city’s underground world had to eat. So Azazel took Lucifer to their own restaurant, serving the fish they reeled in. The business was a front for most of their other dealings, and exactly where Dean pinpointed the main show would have to go down.

  Lucifer was led into the back of the restaurant. His seating lacked windows and cut off from the rest of the establishment. Anyone who would have wanted to get to him then couldn’t have possibly have managed a successful assassination. Not with Lucifer’s set up.

  Not everyone was Sam and Dean Winchester.

  Sneaking in to the restaurant wasn’t a big deal, not when the people working there already knew him. All Ava did was toss him a glare when he almost ran into her. The glasses of water she carried on her tray threatened to fall over. He prevented the tray from toppling over with a mere touch, letting Ava get her balance back. She rolled her eyes at him, but was soon on her way. He watched her go for a second before turning and resuming his track to the kitchens. Grabbing a uniform that was more or less close to his size, Sam quickly donned it. A word with Eve paired with his ‘puppy eyes,’ as Dean labeled it, had her relinquishing Azazel and Lucifer’s dishes to him. But not without a threat of disembowelment should anything happen to the food. He knew she wasn’t talking about just taking a trip and decorating the floors with her hard work. 

  Nonetheless, with a hearty promise, he was soon bustling out of the kitchens. He walked around the front of restaurant before turning into the corridor that would take him to the back. 

  As Sam walked, he looked out the window. He blinked a couple of times, and then was soon submerged in the darkness of the corridor. 

  There were only a few overhead lights spaced few and far in between, a stark contrast to the airy, openness of the front of the restaurant. Knocking twice on the door at the far end of the hallway, a slot at the top of the door opened. One of Lucifer’s bodyguards peering through. Sam shot him a sunny grin.

  “Supper?” He held up the tray.

  “Who sent you?” The man asked instead. 

  Sam carefully recited Eve’s words. “The Lord Saviour sent his regards when Morningstar couldn’t make it to his Last Supper.”

  The slot closed. A moment later, Sam heard the locks from within turning. The door finally opened. 

  Nerves thrumming with anticipation, Sam unconsciously straightened his back, and stepped inside.

  Azazel and Lucifer were seated at the center at the center of the room. Had the circumstances - and the people - have been any different, Sam could have easily mistaken the scenario to be something far more romantic. The soft lighting and single red rose in a vase in between the two on the table would have only strengthened that belief. If, that is, Sam chose to ignore the guns by the rose. And the hulking bodyguards at each corner of the room, who were armed even beyond what Sam could see, which he knew for a fact.

  Taking extra care not to stumble, Sam approached Lucifer. For all that Lucifer had his eyes lazily trained on Azazel, he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was tracking Sam’s every movement. 

  He served Azazel first, mumbling a soft, “Your caviar, sir.” He struggled to hold his measly breakfast. He’d already been having trouble keeping it down, and the sight of the fish eggs spread all over the toasted bagels didn’t help his case any. Even the smell of the mint leaves tastefully decorating the dish wasn’t enough to deter the more pungent reeking of the fish eggs.

_ ‘Eat the oats,’  _ Dean said _ , ‘it’ll be easier on the stomach,’  _ Dean said.

  Setting Azazel’s plate down, and avoiding touching the guns, Sam turned to Lucifer next.

  “Bluefin tuna. Specially imported from the Mediterranean Sea, sir.” Lucifer hummed. He leaned backwards, giving Sam space to settle his much larger, and far less nausea inducing dish in front of him. Sam slightly tilted Lucifer’s napkin, making sure it wouldn’t fall of the plate and to the ground, before stepping away.

  “Enjoy your meals.” He nodded at both of them, studiously ignoring Azazel’s silently seething look. He didn’t bother to look back at either of them as he walked away.

  The moment the door shut behind him, he was running, forcing his legs to slow down to a jog before he emerged. Stumbling back into the kitchens, he removed the apron, making sure Eve was listening to him.

  “I saw him!” Sam said, making sure his voice came out extra awed. “I actually talked to Morningstar.” Sam said, this time disbelief tainting his tone.

  Eve raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Congrats, kid.” She said dryly. “Your life has been made.”

  Sam shook his head, pasting a dazed smile as he lazily bounced out of the kitchens. He heard Eve mutter behind him, something about “and there goes another one,” and then the kitchen doors were slamming shut behind him.

  Just as he was leaving the restaurant, Ava passed by, briefly pausing beside him. “Already out, are you?”

  Sam turned his grin on her.

  “I just got my life made.” He said, repeating Eve’s words. Ignoring her bemused look, he slipped out of the restaurant. He looked around, eyes inconspicuously glancing to the top of the buildings around him. He blinked a couple of times as he shoved his hands in his pockets, and then started walking.

 

oOo

 

  “It’s between the Russians and Michael! Why do you still want to hold onto the package?”

  Lucifer paused from where he’d been about to eat a forkful of his food. Stilling, he raised his eyebrows. “Are you questioning me, Azazel?”

  The way Azazel momentarily gaped reminded Lucifer as to how the man’s dish must have been when it was still alive. He managed to regain his composure, enough to start backing himself up with fervor. All traces of his previous ire was gone, the man’s uncanny ability to smooth out his face forever amusing Lucifer.

  “No, no. Of course not. It’s just… are you sure holding onto the package is wise? I mean, you were saying that you didn’t want to get in between those two groups, and surely, holding onto it would only cause the Russian’s to get involved.”

  Now, Lucifer completely set his fork and knife down, reclining against the back of his chair as he regarded Azazel with cool eyes. “I’d suggest you be careful with your next words, Azazel, for it sounds awfully close to you suggesting I’m an unwise man.”

  Azazel opened his mouth to reply. A second passed, and then he shut his mouth, jaw clacking audibly. Smirking knowingly, Lucifer leaned forward, and resumed eating. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, Azazel shifting uncomfortably, but wisely - ironically - keeping his mouth shut. 

  Finishing off the last bite, Lucifer set his fork down, nodding appreciatively to himself. He picked up his napkin, unfolding it, and was about to dab at his mouth when he noticed the words there.

 

_ Bomb in building. Will go off soon. I suggest you take care of it. _

_ ~SW _

  Lucifer sniffed. 

  He raised the napkin, the single gesture enough to summon one of his men from behind him. Azazel worriedly eyed the note, but Lucifer ignored him as he handed the napkin to his bodyguard.

  “Take care of this. Report to me if it’s true and dealt with.” The bodyguard nodded respectfully, taking the napkin. He knew the man - some Tom, Dick, or Harry - went over it, before he quickly left, Azazel following the man’s movements with his eyes. When Lucifer stood up, Azazel’s attention shifted back to him, looking frantic as Lucifer started to step away from the table. Swiftly, his three remaining men came to surround him, forming a perfect triangle to make up the loss of one man, but still letting him view Azazel with ease.

  “Thank you for the meal.” He said simply, and then he was on the move.

 

oOo

 

  Barely a few hours passed before a bodyguard approached him on the plane.

  “Sir?” At Lucifer’s silent indication, the man went on. “Jason called, sir.”

  Lucifer stared at the man blankly. “I’m sorry, who?”

  The man faltered. “The tip you received on the bomb? You send Jason on it.” Lucifer had barely a moment of realization before the man was going on. “It was true. They just finished diffusing it.”

  His unimpressed face had the man look like he was regretting being the one to step forward to deliver the news to Lucifer.

  “They  _ just _ finished diffusing a bomb I had learned of,  _ three hours ago?” _

  The man cleared his throat, suddenly not meeting Lucifer’s eyes. “They weren’t able to diffuse it without letting it go off, sir.”

  Lucifer straightened. “You’re telling me, they had to detonate it?”

  The man nodded. 

  “Imbeciles.” Lucifer said under his breath. He turned to look out the window, watching the city go by below him.

  “Tell the pilot to take us back. And call Azazel. There’s a man of his I want to meet.”

 

oOo

 

  Watching the expressions Azazel tried so hard to hide, but failed to in the face of Lucifer, would never fail to be a highlight of Lucifer’s day. The man went from fearful at Lucifer’s abrupt return, to relieved glee when he realized  _ he _ wasn’t in trouble, to furious annoyance when Lucifer practically dismissed him, enquiring of the boy who served them instead.

  Lording his position of power over anyone, on the other hand, would always make Lucifer’s day. Watching Azazel begrudgingly submit, he soon scurried away like a fearful mouse, calling for the boy. 

  Lucifer beckoned one of his men closer as Azazel returned, the boy close on his heels. 

  Instantly, Lucifer’s interest was piqued. 

  While Azazel practically held his heart on his sleeve, his expressions clear even on the monitor, this boy was the exact opposite. Not an easy feat, especially when Lucifer knew the boy must have known whom he was standing in front of. Even earlier that day - or rather, yesterday, now - the boy’s hands didn’t shake once whilst he was serving them, his gaze unwavering when he had met Lucifer’s eyes.

  Either the boy was stupid, or had some nerve. 

  Lucifer was betting on the latter. And if all went well, he was looking forward to also investing his stakes on it as well.

  “Sam Wesson, ma’am.”

  Keen eyes took in the sight of the boy on the screen. He stood with his back straight, unflinching under Lilith’s stare. Lucifer was impressed; he was witness to many people squirming and shivering under her stare, and yet this boy barely reacted. 

  “Sam.” Lilith’s voice was silky and seductive, a tone Lucifer was all too aware to be only a facade. “You’re the one who sent me the note informing Lucifer of the bomb, weren’t you?”

  Sam nodded. “I did.” He said.

  Lucifer’s eyebrows raised by a margin at the boy’s blunt, yet simple reply.

  “And tell me, how did you even know of the bomb in the first place?”

  “I hear people talking. You learn a lot more than you realize around the docks, especially when people think you’re only a stupid fourteen year old.”

  Lucifer paused. He heard the words Sam didn’t say aloud well and clear. Feeling a lot more confident in the boy, Lucifer straightened, nodding decisively. He leaned forward, pressing on the button that would activate their microphone. It would let Lilith hear his words from the bluetooth she wore, hidden under her tresses.

  “Tell him.” He released the button just as a toothy grin appeared on Lilith’s face, immediately obeying her master.

  “Sam, was it? I have a job for you.”

 

oOo

 

  In all honesty, this was a lot easier than he thought it would be. Hell, while he knew he wouldn’t be seeing Lucifer just yet, seeing Lilith was still a major step up on the ladder for him. Even more so when Lilith started talking of a job, which he just knew had to be something Lucifer must have had a hand in, one way or another. But as much as he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sam wasn’t going be a naive fool. He was all too aware that even the slightest misstep would lead to a major screw up.

  “What do I need to do?” Sam said. With every word he uttered, he knew he was winning Lilith - and therefore, Lucifer - over with the added attitude. 

  Lilith grinned. “There’s this package that’s been…  _ mistakenly  _ sent to us. We need you to deliver it back to its correct recipient.” 

  Sam quirked his head. “I’m listening.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake. Lilith froze, her eyes dangerously glinting. Sam waited for the moment he’d receive punishment for his words, when Lilith tilted her head, a smile as fake as her teeth washing over her face. 

  “The package is currently at…” She went on, easily giving Sam the details. And though Sam knew he was already going to take the task, Azazel’s absolutely betrayed glare only strengthened Sam’s acceptance when Lilith finished speaking.

 

oOo

 

  The job was simple. A package from Russia that was supposed to be sent to the Angel’s gang somehow ended up in the Demon’s port instead. It was waiting for Sam at an apartment near the harbor, and all he had to do was sneak it out - because as much as it was in Lucifer’s place, Frank Devreux was a grumpy man who took the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ a tad bit too seriously for Sam’s comfort, and Lucifer’s approval - and get it delivered to the Angel’s leader’s door.

  Literally. Michael’s porch. At his private mansion.

  Easy peasy.

  Sighing, Sam pulled the box out from under his coat. It was an average sized parcel, taped closed at almost every corner, and for all intents and purposes, looking absolutely inconspicuous. He highly doubted that whatever it contained was actually harmless, however. Frank’s fire safe had seven different combinations and was probably half a foot thick, making it absolutely impenetrable. He was going to seriously owe his friend at the docks after this for the next year or so, for helping him get the thing open without tripping any of Frank’s alarm. 

  Sam scoffed, though he’d admit, he was going to pity Frank after this. The man already emptied out his canned foods  _ everyday _ , but after this, Sam didn’t want to even think of how the man was going to trust anything he ate or drank, especially after he found the remnants of the sleeping pills in a supposedly unopened can of lentils.

  For now, though, Sam shrugged it off. Maybe he’d apologize later - he really wouldn’t, he quite liked his head without any extra holes, for example something the rifle still in a snoring Frank’s grasp would grant - but first, he had to get to Michael’s mansion.

  Sam sent a long suffering sigh to the uncaring heavens, cutting himself off just as a guard passed by his hiding spot. Really, for all that Michael himself was a tiny bit better than Frank - severe torture first, questions next, death later - getting through his bodyguards was taking a lot longer than Sam would have wanted. 

  And he may have accidentally also backed himself into a corner.

  The moment the guard turned a corner, another one appeared, crossing paths with guard one. Smacking his head, Sam impatiently waited for the next guard to pass his point. They’d already passed twice, but Sam was waiting to make absolutely sure of their paths before he made a run for it. 

  And run he did, as soon as the guard’s back was to Sam. Barely breathing as he sprinted across the field, keeping close to the ground, Sam made it just in time to hide behind a pillar as the guards from his initial spot made their next round. Before they could spot him, Sam started to slide around the pillar, keeping his back to it.

  Sam cursed.

  Time seemed to freeze as he realized he was about to get caught. The bodyguards from his previous spot would have perfect view of him if he turned a little to the left, but a little to the right and the bodyguard checking his gun as he paced around the mansion’s main entry would know all too well that his gun was in perfect working condition by testing it on Sam.

  Sam ducked, hiding himself behind a potted plant just as the bodyguards rounded the corner again, disappearing to make their rounds onto the other sides of the fence.

  He exhaled, eyes closing as he took a moment to reorient himself. 

  Right. So, bodyguards at his left. Bodyguard with a gun  _ in his hands  _ on the right. And security cameras that would resume working in… three more minutes.

  Sam internally groaned. He glared at a ladybug crawling on top of one of the many bricks surrounding the plant that was keeping Sam hidden.

  His eyes widened.

  A few seconds later, the bodyguard at his right was running around the mansion’s corner, undoubtedly going to see what the noise was. Sam estimated that he had fifteen seconds max before the bodyguard realized it was only a brick, and ultimately, a distraction.

  He shot forward from his hiding space, set the package down, rang the doorbell, and was running again, just as he heard shouting from right behind him.

 

oOo

 

  Lucifer regarded the bloodied teenager in front of him.

  Sam Wesson. Fourteen years old. No prior history of, well, anything. But from what his men still managed to dig up, was that Wesson had essentially grown up on the streets, but quite possibly a runaway.

  No living relations. Wasn’t particularly attached to anyone. Current life revolved solely around the docks. And was even reported to be found sleeping on the cargos. 

  The boy was well and truly one of Azazel’s rats, for all intents and purposes.

  Until now.

  Sam Wesson, back straight and unbowing under the pressure of a gunshot wound to the thigh, arms lax yet also ready despite the scratches visible on his arms. His mission to deliver Michael’s box was obviously not perfect, but Lucifer didn’t expect any less.

  If anything, he was still surprised that the boy was here in one piece. And in the same day. 

  But more than pleasantly surprised. 

  Quite satisfied, in fact.

  “Sam, my boy,” Lucifer grinned. “What do you say about working under me directly?”

Sam’s eyes glinted. “I’d be honored.” He said, succinct as ever. 

Lucifer beamed. "I see bright things in your future, Sammy."

The kid bobbed his head in a mimicry of a bow. It barely concealed the smirk on his face.

 

oOo

 

The man grit his teeth. It had been hours. And his men were still standing around him, far too close. As if they could whisk him away within a second if whatever was in that parcel proved to be fatal.

“It’s from the Russians.” His right hand man noted. If Michael were his brother, he’d have rolled his eyes. Trust Zachariah to note the most obvious, and miss the lesser sight.

Then again, Lucifer was a master at concealing things, and even Michael couldn’t say he knew all the tricks his brother had up his sleeve.

But Michael would be the first, if not the only one, to know that Lucifer  _ always _ had a trick up his sleeve.

“Open it.” Michael commanded. Zachariah blinked, and Michael could see him internally floundering for a second. Inhaling impatiently, Michael straightened his already ramrod form, glaring at his right-hand. “Now!”

Reminiscent to a scurrying mouse, Zachariah stepped forward. With slow movements, he tore open the package. The moment he pulled apart the box’s flaps, though, and he wasn’t blown away to smithereens or pelted with acid, Michael pushed forward through his bodyguard’s protectively outstretched arms, looking into the box before Zachariah could react.

He glanced disinterestedly at the diffused bomb, the stark red timer blinking 00:00:00 at him. His focus, was honed in on the paper atop the explosive instead.

Michael picked it up before Zachariah was even looking back at the box.

 

_ You really need better friends, brother.  _

_ Until the next possible destructive event sent the wrong way, _

_ ~Morningstar _

**Author's Note:**

> So... I.. have no ideas for what to write next. Mind, I've got vague ideas, but I've also got homework (that I'm supposed to be doing _right frigging now_ ) and a couple of other fics with more concrete ideas laid out. So while I'll be pursuing those, this might... be on hold for a bit? But rest assured, the moment I get another idea (read; KaenNoMai attacks me with another one) I'll probably get started on it in between my spare time)  
>  Which, yeah. Thanks to KaenNoMai, who helped me squeeze this out :P


End file.
